It's okay to cry
by Skovko
Summary: Anette is the only one who knows the truth about Dean and Charlotte's relationship. She's always there for him, and she doesn't judge him. When he doesn't feel strong enough, she's strong for him, always ready to comfort him. Feelings are there between them, but is he strong enough to walk away from the situation he's in? (Inspired by the song "Behind Closed Doors" by Pop Evil.)
1. Husky

She hurried through the arena, hoping no one noticed where she went. She doubted anyone cared, but if she ran too fast, someone might catch on that something was wrong. She had to get to the roof. He would be up there. He always made his way to the roof of any arena when he needed to get away.

She had seen it. She had seen the black eye he worked with. The entire world had seen it, but she was probably the only one who knew how he had gotten it, and it wasn't from a wrestling match like everyone else probably assumed. And she had seen his girlfriend walking around backstage even though she was supposed to be on SmackDown.

She took a look back to make sure no one was watching before she opened the door to the staircase. She took the stairs two at the time, her heart beating fast as if she was still out there in a match again Dana. That had been a dark match before RAW. That was a couple of hours ago. All that mattered now was finding him.

She opened the door to the roof, and there he was. He had either taken a chair with him, or someone had left it up there at some point. Probably the latter. He was sitting on the chair, staring out at nothing. His eyes landed on her when she came through the door.

"Dean," she sighed.

She walked over to him, and he pulled her in to stand between his legs. He wrapped his arms around her, rested his head against her stomach, and cried. She ran her fingers through what little hair he had left, letting him cry while comforting him.

"I'm sorry, Anette," he moved his head away. "I got your shirt all wet."  
"Fuck my shirt! What is she doing here? Why is Charlotte here?" She asked.  
"Triple threat at Wrestlemania between her, Becky and Ronda. You know this. The rumor has been out there for ages," he answered.

She tilted his head, and forced him to look at her. He hated that he made her worry about him. She was his beautiful angel, always ready to comfort him. She was definitely the beautiful one between her and her twin brother Heath Slater. They shared the same red hair and brown eyes, but that was about it.

"Dean," she traced his black eye with her fingers. "Did she do this?"  
"No, it was... It was..." He struggled to find the words. "House show."  
"Don't lie to me. I've been here all week. You didn't have this eye last night after your match, and now that Charlotte is here, I wanna know what went down in your hotel room last night," she said.  
"Forget it," he mumbled.

He buried his head in her tee again. He was embarrassed, and he felt pathetic. He was seen as a big, strong man to the world, yet he found himself at the receiving end in an abusive relationship. He knew he could easily pacify Charlotte, but that meant he had to put his hands on her too, and he couldn't do that. He couldn't hurt a woman no matter what. And even if he could, the world would spin it around and make him look like the bad guy.

"Dean," she tried again.  
"Can't we just sit here for a little while?" He asked.  
"Yes, we can," she answered.

She moved around, getting her legs on the outside of his, straddling his lap, and holding him. He pulled her as close as he could, laying his head on her shoulder, looking out in the darkness while she stroked his head and neck. It always felt so good having her near.

He'd never understand how she had managed to see through all his bullshit and lies, how she had managed to figure out the truth about him and Charlotte, but she had, and in a way he was happy. At least he had someone on his side that didn't judge him or laugh at him.

"Do you wanna go out for a drink after the show?" She asked.  
"I can't. Charlotte wants to go home," he answered.  
"Of course," she said. "How about Friday then? Or is she coming with us for the house shows?"  
"No, she'll jump between the brands like Becky. I'm alone for the house shows. Friday sounds good," he said.

He leaned out and looked at her. His tears had stopped, but his eyes were still wet, and his cheeks were bright red. She never looked at him differently. She smiled at him like the guardian angel she seemed to be.

"Can I get a smile?" She asked.  
"Anette," he shook his head while smiling.  
"There's my pretty husky," she said.  
"Husky?" He chuckled. "Remind me again why you're always comparing me to that breed."  
"My favorite breed, and you're my favorite Dean," she winked. "There's a good dog inside that breed. And you, my dearest Dean, you are a good man. You just need to see it yourself."


	2. In charge

Anette looked at Dean that Friday night after the show closed. His black eye had turned into a green color, but that wasn't the important thing. The important thing was that he seemed happy in that moment, and that his face and upper body was free of new marks. He had wrestled without a shirt which meant Charlotte had been in a good mood for their days home.

"So where are we going?" He asked.  
"There's a bar just behind the hotel," she answered.

He put his arm over her shoulders, and pulled her up against his side.

"Lead the way," he said.

40 minutes later they were in the middle of a game of pool while drinking their second beer each.

"That's how it's done!" He downed another ball. "You're losing, Anette."  
"I can take a loss," she grinned. "I'm still the most pretty one between the two of us."  
"You sure are," he laughed.

He downed another ball, grinned widely at her, and then downed the black ball.

"I win," he stood up tall.  
"Double or nothing?" She asked.  
"We didn't even bet on anything," he chuckled. "But sure, let's make it more interesting. If I win, I get a kiss."  
"And if I win?" She asked.  
"You get a kiss," he answered.  
"Dean!" She laughed. "You're a dork!"  
"Okay, how about I go down on you if you win?" He wiggled his eyebrows.  
"Right!" She laughed. "Line them up."

He lined them up while she got them their third beer. The game continued, and she ended up victorious.

"You let me win. Admit it," she said.  
"I might," he chuckled.  
"Best out of three?" She asked.  
"No, let's go back," he said.

They walked back to the hotel. Once inside the elevator, she looked at him.

"How are things at home?" She asked.  
"Good, good. Charlotte's ecstatic about being moved to RAW, so she's been in a good mood," he answered.  
"For how long?" She asked.  
"Can we not do this today?" He looked at her beggingly. "I was having a really good time with you, and everything's okay as long as I give her what she wants."  
"What's that supposed to mean?" She asked.

The elevator stopped, and the door opened on their floor. He hurried out of the elevator, jogging towards his room, but she was right behind him.

"Dean!" She grabbed his arm. "What's that supposed to mean?"  
"As long as I keep her happy in bed, there's nothing going on," he said.  
"But do you want to have sex with her?" She asked.  
"It doesn't matter," he sighed. "Men always want sex."

He opened the door to his room, and she pushed her way inside with him.

"What the hell, Dean? No, that's a fucking, stupid myth! Does she force you? Does she rape you?" She yelled.  
"Men can't get raped by women," he said.  
"The fuck they can't!" She yelled louder. "It happens more than you know! Oh my fucking god, I'm gonna kill that bitch!"

He wrapped his arms around her, and held her tight. She could hardly move on her own, but he took charge and moved them over to the wall, placing her with her back up against it. He ran his nose up her neck, and took in the raspberry scent of her hair.

"You always smell so good," he said.  
"Dean," she said. "We can't."  
"You're always there. Like my own personal guardian angel. You always know what to do and say to make me happy. You make me feel good," he said.

He started leaving small kisses over the exposed skin of her neck.

"Dean, you gotta stop this," she said. "You got a girlfriend."  
"That's the only reason I need to stop? Not because you don't want me?" He asked.  
"Charlotte," she whispered.  
"I knew it. You want me too," he smirked against her skin. "I believe you won our last game, so that means I'll be going down on you."  
"You lost on purpose," she said.  
"That I did," he confessed.  
"Why?" She asked. "What do you want?"

He scraped his teeth over her skin, and she shivered and moaned. He moved his head out to stare her down. One hand was resting against the wall next to her head, the other hand was toying with her red hair.

"I wanna be in charge. I want you on your back on my bed. I wanna hear you moan, beg, cry and even scream. I want you to take everything I got to give. I wanna do to you what I never do to her," he said. "I want you!"  
"Dean!" She whimpered. "Take me!"

He crashed his lips down on hers, dominating the kiss, biting her bottom lip. He pulled her away from the wall, tore her clothes off her, and pushed her down on the bed. He went down on his knees on the floor, grabbed her thighs, and pulled her to the edge of the bed. He buried his face between her legs, letting his tongue and lips move like crazy. He wanted her to fall apart fast and hard, and because of him.

"Dean! Oh my god, Dean! Please! Please, don't stop!" She begged.

He dug his nails into her thighs, wanting her to feel more of him. She moaned even louder, her voice cracking into a broken scream as she came. She arched her back, and he placed an arm over her stomach to keep her down on the bed. He was in charge, even of her orgasm. He let her ride it out, but he wasn't gonna let her move away from him until she was done cumming.

He sat back on his heels, and pulled his tee off. He got back up on his feet, kicked his shoes off, and quickly got out of his jeans, socks and briefs. He crawled up between her legs, growling louder the closer he came. She always referred to him as husky, and he was gonna be her mad dog tonight.

"Fucking delicious," he kissed her, and grabbed her ass. "Turn around. I want you on your hands and knees."

He sat back on his heels again, watching as she turned around and pushed herself up to stand on all four. He grabbed his dick, lined himself up by her entrance, and pushed forward fast. She cried out, and her upper body fell down on the bed. He grabbed her hair to yank her back up to stand. He moved his hands to her shoulders, holding on tightly as he started to pound into her.

He needed this. He needed to be in charge and dominate. She didn't seem to mind though. She moaned and cried, begged him to continue. He let go of her shoulders and moved back a bit. He held on to her hip with his left hand while his right hand moved in between her legs.

"Oh god!" She moaned even louder. "Fuck! Right there! Don't stop! Make me cum, Dean!"

That had been the plan all along, but he loved hearing her beg for it. Beg for him to do it. He kept his fast thrusts going while his fingers worked their magic on her clit. She fell apart again, another broken scream leaving her throat while she shook in pleasure.

As soon as she was done cumming, he pulled out of her. He flipped her over on her back, covered her body with his, and pushed into her again. This time he moved more slow, but his thrusts were hard and deep. He kissed her again, grabbing her thigh to move her leg up against him. She started whimpering by the deep thrusts. He kissed his way from her lips and up to her ear.

"Let go again," he rasped out. "I got you, angel. I got you. Let go for me."

She arched up against him and cried out a third time. Her broken scream was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. Charlotte didn't sound like that. He wasn't even sure how she sounded anymore. He went into his own little world when they had sex. Mostly it was him on his back while she rode him and took what she wanted from him. He didn't even cum half the times. It didn't matter. What mattered was her being satisfied because that meant she was happy. A happy Charlotte didn't punish him.

It was different with Anette. Despite the need to be in charge and dominate the entire thing, he wanted her to be satisfied too. More than anything he wanted to put her above himself, but not to keep her from punishing him. He wanted her to be happy because of him.

"Dean," she whispered.

He buried his teeth in her neck with a loud groan, biting down on her skin while he came, letting go because he wanted to let go and not because he was forced, and still careful not to break her skin or leave a mark.

He rolled down next to her, his chest heaving like crazy. He felt good. He felt empowered. He felt wanted. And he felt safe. He hadn't felt safe for a long time. He turned his head and looked at her. The second their eyes met, reality came rushing back in. There was a whole world outside his hotel room that was still waiting for them.

"So," she started.  
"Yeah," he said. "It's probably best if you leave."

He felt horrible for saying those words. He sounded cold. Like she didn't matter at all to him. She got out of bed, and dressed as fast as she could with her back against him. He wanted to reach out and touch her. He wanted to ask her to stay the night. Instead he let her go. She never looked back at him, and he never said anything. The door closed behind her, and he kept looking in its direction, feeling his tears fall again, only this time she wasn't there to comfort him.


	3. A mistake

Dean avoided Anette the rest of the week. He would see her in catering and other places of the arenas, but he wouldn't go over and talk to her. She didn't come to him either. He had asked her to leave his room Friday night. She was nothing more than a one night stand, a dirty little secret, a mistake. She wasn't gonna go to him after that.

Charlotte was there again that Monday night for RAW. How Anette wanted to walk over and slap the taste out of Charlotte's mouth. She didn't though. She didn't even go near the blonde woman. It was not her place. And Dean somehow seemed to cling to Charlotte that evening, as if he was trying to show how happy they were together.

Everything changed the next Friday at the house show. Dean was fighting in jeans and a wifebeater. Anette knew he was trying to cover up something when he wore a wifebeater. He usually didn't wrestle in those anymore. He found her after his match, his eyes begging her to talk to him. She couldn't walk away from him. She wasn't a cold hearted bitch.

"Are you okay?" She asked.  
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," he answered.

He held a hand on his side, and she moved it with her own before pulling up his wifebeater.

"Let me see," she looked at the bruise in his side. "What happened?"  
"I fell into the kitchen counter," he said.  
"Did she push you?" She asked.

He looked down ashamed and nodded.

"It's okay, Dean. You'll be fine," she said.  
"No hug?" He asked.  
"I'm running late," she answered.  
"Can we go out tonight?" He asked.  
"I made plans with Heath," she answered.  
"Can I come with you?" He asked. "Please."

She wanted to walk away from him after they had spent a night together, but she couldn't. Instead she put on a smile.

"Sure, husky," she said.  
"Husky," he grinned. "You still like me."  
"Always will," she said.

Dean didn't mind her twin brother Heath, but it was hard being out with him on this night. He really wanted to talk to her alone. He wanted what they usually had. Their friendship with bits of flirting. And he wanted to take her home to his hotel room for another round.

"Toilet," Heath excused himself.

The second Heath was gone, Dean placed a hand on her thigh. He smirked at her, but she didn't react like he wanted her to. Instead she sighed and pushed his hand away.

"Don't," she said.

He leaned in and ran his nose over her neck and up to her ear.

"Angel," he rasped. "Remember Friday?"  
"All too well," she pushed him away. "I don't wanna be that person, Dean."  
"You don't wanna be satisfied?" He wet his lips.  
"Not like this. Not by you," she said.  
"Auch, why don't you burn me?" He asked.  
"Fuck you!" She rolled her eyes.  
"If you'll let me," he said.

He placed his hand on her thigh again, and once again she pushed it away.

"Stop it, Dean! No means no! Something you ought to learn!" She sneered.

Those words hurt a lot. He turned his head down to stare at the table, battling against the tears. He felt her hand on his back, rubbing circles on him, trying to comfort him like she always did.

"I'm sorry. That was not okay of me to say that," she said.  
"It's okay," he sniffled.  
"No, it's not," she said. "Dean, there's five types of abuse in a relationship. Physical, emotional, mental, financial and sexual. How many of those is she putting you through?"  
"I can take care of myself financial," he said.  
"So four," she said. "Fuck!"

She wrapped her arms around him and held him close. He dried his eyes before wrapping his arms around her too. She always made him feel better, and in that moment he wanted to hold her all night. His little fantasy was broken by the next words she said.

"I know you're hurting," her fingers ran over his head. "But that doesn't give you a free pass to hurt others. I'm gonna forget Friday ever happened, but we can't go there again. I won't let you hurt me because she hurts you. Let's just see it for what it was and move on."  
"What it was?" He asked.  
"A mistake," she answered.  
"It wasn't a mistake!" He growled "You could never be a mistake!"

He tightened his arms around her, feeling his inner dominator wake up again, wanting to pull her over on his lap and keep her there.

"Doesn't this look cozy?" Heath interrupted.

Dean broke the hug quickly. He didn't feel guilty, and he knew Heath would never tell anyone. Not without his twin sister's permission. Heath sat down and grinned at them.

"What did I interrupt?" He asked.  
"Nothing," she said. "Beer again?"  
"Yeah," Dean said.  
"Sure thing, sis," Heath said.  
"I'll get it," she said.

She walked up to the counter. Both men followed her with their eyes. Heath turned his head and looked at Dean.

"You need to figure it out," he said.  
"Figure what out?" Dean looked at Heath.  
"Who you want. Anette or Charlotte. Personally I'll always be pointing at my sister, but it's your call," Heath said.  
"Is it that obvious?" Dean asked.  
"Yeah," Heath grinned. "I can see it in your eyes everytime you look at her. I don't know why anybody hasn't caught on yet. Or maybe it's because I've been paying extra attention because I know how she feels about you. I want her to be happy, and as long as she's in love with a taken man, that's never gonna happen."  
"In love?" Dean's eyes widened. "She's in love with me?"  
"Welcome to the real world, Deano boy!" Heath laughed.

Two hours later they all stepped out of the elevator. They walked down the small hallway. Dean stopped by his door. He unlocked it, but didn't enter. He looked down to see her unlocking her door. She looked up and caught his eyes. She sent him a smile before disappearing into her room.


	4. Broken

Dean had done a lot of thinking all Saturday. Heath's words had hit home. Anette was in love with him if Heath was to believed. Why would Heath lie? A lie like that would only hurt his twin sister, and she was the one person Heath always put above himself.

And then there was Dean's own feelings. He couldn't deny what he felt towards the redhead. He was just so broken mentally that he thought he didn't deserve her. She was too good for him. Charlotte had made sure that he wasn't the same confident man he was before her.

He had gone back to his hotel room after the house show. He tossed and turned for over an hour before he finally gave up falling asleep. He put on a pair of sweatpants, and left his room bare footed and bare chested. He walked five doors further down, stopped, and raised his hand to knock. Anette opened the door shortly after.

"Dean? What's wrong?" She asked.  
"Did I wake you?" He asked.  
"No, I had just turned off the light two minutes ago," she answered.  
"Can I come in?" He asked.

He couldn't stop the tears that fell directly after that question. She wrapped her arms around his waist, pulled him into the room, and closed the door. She guided him over to the bed to sit down. He wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her down to lie. For a minute they just laid there, arms around each other, his tears drying out.

"I miss Vegas," he finally said.  
"You don't have to stay in North Carolina with her," she said.  
"I sold my house when I moved in with her. Everyone thinks it's so damn easy to just buy something else and move out, but I don't know what to do anymore. I feel so hollow inside, like I'm broken or something," he said.  
"You can always come live with me," she offered.  
"Just like that?" He asked.  
"Yeah, just like that," she answered. "I have a guest room."  
"I'd rather be in your bed," he said.

He moved around and started kissing her collarbone. She let out a moan before she came to her senses, and pushed his head away.

"Dean," she sighed. "We had this talk yesterday."

He popped his head up on his elbow, looked at her with a little smile while tracing her collarbone with his finger. Her skin was still warm and a bit wet after his kisses.

"What made you move to Vegas in the first place?" He asked.  
"All the pretty lights," she joked. "No, like you I liked the action when I was younger, and now it's my home. I don't see myself anywhere else."  
"I used to feel that way too. Charlotte made me move," he said.  
"You chose to," she said.  
"I thought I loved her," he said.  
"And now?" She asked.  
"Now," he started.

He ran his index finger between the valley of her breasts on top of her tank top, down her stomach, stopping by the hem of the top. He moved his fingertips inside the top, and looked at her.

"Now I only smile when I'm near you," he said.  
"Dean, I..." She started.  
"Please, let me finish," he said.

He pushed himself down, and pushed her tank top up to reveal her stomach. He started kissing up her stomach, stopping by the hem of the top that rested under her breasts.

"I've been in love with you for so long, but I was never gonna tell you," he said.  
"Why not?" She asked.  
"Because I'm broken, and I don't deserve you," he answered.  
"You're not broken," she said.

He kissed down her stomach, and dipped his tongue down her navel. She let out the cutest, little moan.

"Oh, you like that, don't you?" He chuckled.

He dipped his tongue down her navel again, and she moaned again. He chuckled lowly as he kissed his way up to her tank top again.

"I'm so messed up," he said.  
"I'll fucking kill her for you, but..." She said.  
"But what?" He asked.  
"But please don't stop," she grabbed his shoulders. "God damn it, Dean, if what you're saying is true, then please don't stop."

He pushed her tank top further up and revealed her naked breasts. He swirled his tongue around one nipple before tracing her skin from breast to breast to give the other nipple the same attention.

"It's true. I'm not lying to you, angel. I'm in love with you," he said.  
"Dean!" She whimpered.  
"If you don't feel the same, tell me stop right now," he said.

He looked up at her, pleading for an answer. She sat up and pulled the tank top off before wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss.

"I'm in love with you, husky," she nibbled at his bottom lip.  
"You make me feel real again," he said.  
"You are real," she said.  
"You make me feel whole again," he pushed her down on the bed again. "You make me feel. Period."

He stuck his hand down her shorts and panties, slowly running circles on her clit. Her hand found its way down his sweatpants and briefs too, stroking him softly. For a few minutes they laid like that, working each other up, until he grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand free.

"I don't wanna cum in my pants," he gave her a sideways smile.  
"Oh no, I think we can do so much better than that," she smiled back.  
"Will you... Ehm... Will you... God, why is this so hard?" He asked.  
"You always seem to lose your words around me," she laughed. "What do you want, husky? You can ask me anything."  
"Will you ride me?" He asked.  
"Of course," she answered.  
"It scares me," he quickly said. "That position. Charlotte is usually on top while my mind travels into its own little world. I wanna enjoy it again. I know you can make that happen."  
"Lie back and enjoy," she said.

She kissed him softly before pushing herself downwards, kissing down his stomach until she reached his sweatpants. She pulled his sweatpants and briefs off him, and grabbed his dick, stroking him softly again. She ran her tongue up his shaft, and he let out a little moan. She swirled her tongue around the head of his dick before taking him into her mouth, bobbing her head up and down at a slow but steady pace.

"Angel," he pulled her hair. "You're gonna make me cum."

She let go of his dick with a naughty smile. She got out of her shorts and panties, crawled up his body, and straddled him. She kissed him while slowly sinking down on his dick. He laid all stiff until he was all the way inside her. She held still, kissing him softly, waiting for him to say or do something. He finally eased up, grabbed her hips, and gave her a gentle squeeze. She started rolling her hips, careful at first, constantly watching him and listening to his sounds.

"It's okay," he said lowly. "It feels good. You feel good."

She quickened her pace little by little. He kept holding on to her hips, squeezing tighter, starting to push up from underneath. Her head rolled back, and that broken scream left her again as she came. He watched her in wonder. He was sure he could never get tired of the sight of this redhaired angel coming undone in front of him. He grabbed her hips extra tight, his own release taking him by complete surprise. She collapsed down on his chest, leaving a few kisses there as he held on tight to her.

"So," she started.  
"Your turn to kick me out?" He asked.  
"Do you want me to?" She asked.  
"Fuck, no," he squeezed her tighter. "I wanna stay."  
"So stay," she said.

He ran his fingers up and down her back. It felt good lying like this with her in his arms. It felt good, safe and right. This was what he wanted. This was the place he wanted to be. This was the woman he wanted to be with.

"I'm breaking up with Charlotte when she arrives Monday," he said.  
"Are you sure?" She raised her head to look at him.  
"Mmm," he pulled her down for a kiss. "I wanna be with you."


	5. No more

They had been spending the night between Sunday and Monday together too at the next hotel. Monday morning felt weird. Charlotte would arrive around noon. Anette didn't wanna pressure Dean into anything. He had to do this on his own. He said he would reach out to her once it was done.

"Hey sis!" Heath found her in catering around 5 PM. "What's troubling you?"  
"Dean," she sighed.  
"What about him?" He asked.  
"We've kinda been together," she answered.  
"Kinda?" He grinned.  
"Fine, he fucked my brains out last night. Is that what you wanna hear?" She asked.  
"Eew, no! You're my sister," he laughed.

She sighed again and looked down. He put an arm around her shoulders, and leaned his head against hers.

"So what's wrong?" He asked.  
"He said he'd break up with Charlotte when she arrived," she answered.  
"That's a good thing, isn't it?" He asked.  
"She arrived 5 hours ago, and I've heard nothing," she said.  
"Oh," he said. "Maybe call him then."  
"No, he said he would reach out to me when it was done," she said.  
"Charlotte!" Bayley whined in joy.

Heath and Anette looked up to see Charlotte and Dean enter catering hand in hand. Dean looked guilty, and he couldn't meet Anette's eyes.

"Shit, I'm sorry," Heath whispered.  
"I need some air," she said. "Excuse me."

She got up, and walked as calmly as possible out of catering. Once she was out of there, she took off running. She found the roof. Finally she understood Dean's need to always go to the roof of the arenas to be alone. She didn't see Dean turn to watch her leave catering. Heath saw that. He got up and bumped his shoulder into Dean's as he passed him.

"What was that all about?" Charlotte asked.  
"Beats me," Dean shrugged.  
"He's probably jealous that you're more famous than him," she grabbed his chin and shook his head from side to side. "My famous Ambrose boy. All the girls and boys want you, but I get you in my bed."  
"Yeah, lucky you," he said.  
"No, lucky you," she held out her hand. "You got the best blonde on the entire roster. When we get married, you're taking my last name."  
"Married?" He asked confused.  
"Once you get around to ask me. I'm expecting you to pull out all the stops, and put on a show that everyone will remember," she said.  
"I don't wanna marry you," he said.

Her smile faltered, and everyone around them became quiet. Never in a million years had he thought he'd speak those words out loud in front of so many people.

"Of course you do. We'll talk about this later," she said.  
"No," he let go of her hand. "I don't wanna marry you, Charlotte. In fact, I don't wanna be with you."  
"You don't fucking break up with me here, you idiot!" She hissed.

Anette's phone went off. Heath's name flashed across the screen. She was about to hang up, but something inside her told her to answer.

"I really wanna be alone right now," she said.  
"Where are you? Shit is going down!" He said.  
"What do you mean?" She asked.  
"He just fucking dumped her in the middle of catering, and she dragged him out of there. They're arguing near the locker rooms now. I followed them here. I think he's gonna need you very soon," he said.  
"I'm on my way," she said.

She hung up, and sprinted down the stairs. She ran through the halls and turned the corner. They weren't there anymore, but Heath was still there. He pointed at a closed door. Not that he needed to. The angry voice of Charlotte reached her clearly. She walked with determined steps over to the door, opened, and stepped inside. Dean had his back against the wall, looking at her over Charlotte's head. Charlotte was all up in Dean's face and hadn't noticed Anette walking in.

"Break up? Are you fucking kidding me! I gave you the world! I'm a fucking Flair! You don't get to break up with me!" Charlotte yelled.  
"I'm not in love with you anymore, and you always hurt me, Charlotte. You need help," he tried.  
"I hurt you?" She laughed. "Aaw, poor, little Dean can't handle a strong woman."

She slapped him, and Anette saw red. Charlotte raised her hand to slap him again, but Dean caught her hand.

"No more!" He growled.  
"What are you gonna do? You'll never hit a woman!" She mocked.  
"But I will!" Anette said.

Charlotte turned around, only to be met by a headbutt by Anette. A loud crack sounded, and Charlotte cried out in pain. She fell to her knees, and placed her hands over her bleeding nose.

"You broke my nose!" She cried.  
"You fucking deserve it!" Anette sneered.  
"You're so fucking fired!" Charlotte raged. "I got witnesses."  
"I didn't see anything," Heath said.  
"No, we're up on the roof together, looking at the early sunset," Anette smirked at her brother.  
"It sure is beautiful tonight," Dean chimed in.  
"What?" Charlotte looked at Dean.  
"I broke up with you in catering, and I haven't seen you since. A lot of witnesses saw us break up," he said.

He walked over to Anette, wrapped an arm around her waist, and pulled her in for a kiss.

"If we hurry, we can actually catch the last few minutes of the sunset," he pointed out the window. "It's only halfway down."  
"Let's do it," she said.

A minute later all three of them stood up on the roof, watching the sun go down. She turned to Dean and gave him a wide smile.

"So," she started.  
"Is the offer still on the table of going home with you?" He asked.  
"Of course. I still have a guest room," she said.  
"Fuck the guest room!" He pulled her close with a chuckle. "Try kicking me out of your bed. I dare you."  
"You're making breakfast then," she said.  
"Deal," he said.

He pulled her back first up against his chest, and wrapped his arms around her. He couldn't believe everything he had gone through with Charlotte, and yet that was probably what had ended up making him and Anette fall for each other. She had seen through all his bullshit and lies. She had started this friendship that had led them down this path. He started crying again, but this time it was tears of joy. She turned around in his arms, and reached her hands up to dry his eyes.

"Sorry, angel," he chuckled. "I'm still a mess."  
"You're a cute mess," she giggled. "And don't apologize, husky. It's okay to cry."


End file.
